A New Year's Resolution
by SummerStarWatcher
Summary: Tony and Ziva are together in Chicago for New Years.  Can crowds, alcohol, and a late night finally bring them together?


The party was a long, boring affair, and Tony wished he were anywhere but there. Ziva, dressed in stunning black, sidled up to him and whispered, "When can we go?"

"Soon, I hope," he responded, hugging her to his side.

The party was Director Vance's new years party, held in Chicago, with NCIS agents from all across the country in attendance.

Ziva didn't know any of them. As far as she was concerned, this party was just an excuse to dress up for Tony, to watch his mouth fall open reflexively when she first walked into the room. She was eager to leave, feeling no compunction to stay and make small talk with dozens of strangers. And ever since their little talk in the observation room, she'd been hoping against hope that Tony would pull her aside and kiss her full on the mouth. And what better time than at new years? She was counting on the fact that she could get Tony alone by midnight, as kissing in front of Vance and the rest of NCIS probably wouldn't go over well. She paused for a moment, imagining that, for good luck in the new year, he would gather her up in his arms and give her a kiss….

"Let's get out of here." Tony's loud voice broke through her reverie, and, pulling on her elbow, he led her to the door. "I can't take another minute in here; my smile feels like its going to crack off my face.

She knew what he meant. Her face was freezing up in its pleasant expression, and her hand was cramping from all the handshakes. It was a good thing Tony had suggested leaving, before Ziva had to drag him out, instead of the other way around.

"Where are we going?" She asked the expected question, not really caring about the answer.

"I don't know. I don't care. Just let's get out of here now."

She struggled to disguise her happiness. "Should we excuse ourselves to Vance…."

Tony snorted. "Like he's going to miss us in this crush of people. Whose idea was this, anyway?" He turned to her. "Where do you want to go?"

"Let's just go back to the hotel. We can get a few drinks from the bar there."

He nodded at her suggestion. "Sounds great." He grabbed their coats, holding hers out for her to slip her arms into. She smiled at his chivalry, allowing him to hold the door open for her.

"After you, my dear." He laughed.

She looked up at him in surprise. "What's so funny?"

"I didn't think you'd let me help you."

She turned away, smiling flirtatiously. "Well, I don't like to have to do _everything_ myself."

"I'll keep that in mind," he said, pulling her against him as they walked.

Ziva's insides fluttered. What did he mean, he'd keep that in mind?

Before she could ask, they reached the car. "I'm driving," she declared.

"No you're not." He glared at her. "Who has the keys?"

"Who can take the keys?" She glared back. "My turn to drive. You drove here."

He conceded, handing over the keys. "Speaking of the way here, how's McGeek gonna get back?"

Ziva bit back a smile; she'd already considered this. "He looked like he was getting pretty friendly with that other agent back there, Martha? She'll give him a ride—well, somewhere, anyway."

"Oh." Tony leaned back against the seat, lacing his fingers behind his head and propping his feet on the dash. "Good for McGoo. I taught him well."

She snorted.

He sat up with an injured look. "I'm hurt. I clearly had everything to do with McGee's success in hooking up."

Ziva looked sideways at him, noting the self-satisfied smile gracing the handsome countenance. "Whatever."  
At the hotel, the bar was more crowded than she had counted upon. People were everywhere, waiting to clock in the new year. She headed back to the door, turning to shouting to Tony over the sound of loud music and raucous laughter, "It's too loud; I'm going—" She broke off with a gasp as he appeared beside her.

"—upstairs," he finished. "I agree, let's go up. Whose room?"

Ziva was delighted. This couldn't have worked out better if she had planned it herself. "Um, mine? I have a great view from the windows."

"Awesome. Do you think they offer alcohol from room service?" He considered it for a moment. "Probably. Whatever, let's go." They headed for the elevators.

Inside the elevator they were quiet. Tony had his head tipped back, looking up at the ceiling and humming faintly.

Ziva watched the floors tick by, contemplating this twist of fate. _Three, four._ How would she handle having Tony in her room, temptingly close all night long? _Five._ Should she be aggressive, taking matters into her own hands? _Six, seven._ Should she let him take the lead, at this risk that nothing would happen? _Eight, nine._ Should she play it cool, pretending there was no spark between them?_ Ten, eleven, twelve_. The elevator door dinged, signaling their arrival. She shot a glance a Tony's face as he exited, deciding on the second option.

Inside the room, Tony took a moment to admire the view, then turned to Ziva. "Where's the phone? I'm ordering alcohol."

She mutely pointed to the desk, realizing she'd never seen Tony drunk before. She hoped a drunk Tony would be less responsible than a sober Tony.

Two hours and several bottles of vodka later, they were huddled around the clock, waiting for the new year to roll around. Ziva was giggling, at what she couldn't remember, and Tony was holding her very, very close. She felt a sense of hazy pleasure at his embrace. The TV was on in the background, showing Times Square in New York, and the crowds of people waiting for the ball to drop. As their clock changed, the televised crowd gave a synchronized whoop, and Ziva felt Tony's lips on hers.

The kiss was incredible, of that she was sure. Thinking back on it the next morning, she wished she could remember it better. As it was, the kiss was the last thing that stood out in her blurred memory of the night before. Yawning, she rolled over in bed, jerking back in surprise as her foot grazed something. Something hard, rough, warm… She blinked, and Tony's face resolved itself against the pure white of the pillows. His eyes were open and he was watching her.

Ziva felt sick; this was not at all what she had intended. "Did I… did you… did we…?"

He shook his head, sending dizzying relief through her. "I was too drunk to make it back to my room last night, so I slept here. All we did was sleep, I promise."

She could see in his eyes that he was wondering how much she remembered. She held his gaze, asking, "All?"

He blushed and closed. "Well…"

"Tony."

He rushed to beat her to the punch. "It was late, we were drunk, it was new years, we can both just agree to forget it right now. It didn't mean anything, anyway…" He trailed off, his denial ringing a false note.

"Tony," she said again.

He opened his eyes, looking right at her.

She smiled softly, reaching out a hand to stroke down his cheek. She slowly leaned forward, giving him time to move back should he chose, and pressed her lips to his. He reacted instantly, taking control, pushing her back to rise over her. Moaning into his mouth, she accepted everything he gave her.

Pulling back, he smiled at her dazed expression. "I have a new years resolution."

Ziva struggled to force her brain back into action. "What?"

"I resolve—" he kissed her nose, "everyday—" he kissed her eyebrow, "to do this—" he kissed her eyelid, "at least once." He pushed up onto his forearms, looking at her face.

She was still a bit stunned. "Do what?"

He grinned, a truly foxy expression. "This." He kissed her full on the mouth.

Beneath his lips, she grinned too.


End file.
